


Language Barriers

by pantswarrior



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Comedy, Language Barrier, Love Confessions, Mistaken Identity, Other, Phoenix Wright Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-12
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:32:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantswarrior/pseuds/pantswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having long been an admirer, Klavier decides to confess his love to Lamiroir. There's just one small problem with that. ...And actually, it's not the one small problem he thinks it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Language Barriers

**Author's Note:**

> I like to think of this as happening in quick succession with "The Keeping of Secrets". ;)

It was common knowledge that Klavier liked women. All one needed to do was look at the crowds he attracted nearly everywhere he went, and the way he interacted with them. Less common knowledge was that occasionally he had a taste for men, and his frequent onstage fanservice with Daryan merely stoked the stream of fangirl speculation. Truth be told, Klavier liked _people_. There was something beautiful about each person, if you looked deep enough - and most of the time, given the careful way that people presented themselves to him, he didn't need to look very deep at all to find some attraction, to feel comfortable giving them a little thrill.

Every now and then, however, he _did_ find someone who warranted a deeper look. In her case, it wasn't that he couldn't see the outward beauty immediately; but outward beauty was common. Her beautiful voice, less so, but not so terribly rare for him to encounter in his career as a musician. There was something beyond her eyes and her voice and the flowing traditional Borginian garb, however - something soulful and shining in the _way_ she sang the words he didn't even understand - that brought tears to his eyes in that European club, that caused him to _beg_ their guide to try to arrange a meeting after her show.

There, in the back room of the club, he suspected that he would have had the best night of his life, had it not been for the language barrier requiring the presence of their guide, and her pianist besides. With another present, one only acquainted with the basics of Borginese, and his own minimal knowledge, he could only voice the most simple of sentiments - admiration for her talent, casual questions such as how long she had been singing, an explanation that he too was a musician. Despite the awkwardness of interacting through an interpreter, it was still a high point in his life, for there was a connection there that transcended language. When her bright smile showed behind her veil, when she offered to let him play her guitar - when she laughed aloud at the idea that he felt like writing a song right there (which he had _not_ meant for their guide to repeat to her), and agreed, and _helped_ \- that was when Klavier realized that not only had they connected, but he was entirely smitten with the woman. Not a girl, like his little fans, but a woman, older than he was. He wasn't sure by how much, and was too polite to ask, but he failed to care anyhow. The gift of the guitar, he thought, may just have been her subtle way of reciprocating in front of Machi and their interpreter, and it was precious to him.

They exchanged email when he got home - run through translation software, the messages were occasionally jumbled and he might have to ask for clarification, but the general ideas they put forth came through, and he found himself looking forward to each awkward pile of broken English that came his way. Her answer, when he asked if she would like to play a few shows with him in the United States, was less awkward, as it started off with a simple English word - "yes".

He was thrilled. He could hardly contain his excitement, and often his fingers idly drifted to their Serenade during band rehearsals, much to Daryan's annoyance. He was counting the days, trying to learn a little more Borginese in preparation...

And then she arrived, and the progress he was so proud of making in the language was proven to be quite inadequate for the conversations he wished to have. At least Mr. LeTouse was more fluent in both languages than the guide had been, and the conversations that Klavier and Lamiroir had through him went a bit deeper, with more substance.

Still, Klavier was not going to say any of the things he wanted to say in front of a third party. Particularly not her bodyguard. Although he would say nothing less than respectful to a lady, especially a lady like her, some things you just didn't say through an interpreter. There were ways to show his affection without words, however. Opening doors for her, pulling back chairs for her, offering his arm, a gentle caress on her shoulder - these things earned him the sweetest of smiles, and occasionally even a little blush. He was encouraged.

Then one day, when he found her alone in her dressing room before rehearsal, he dared to say it aloud. Closing the door behind him, he smiled as she arose, surprised. "Lamiroir... [I must make a confession. I find you very beautiful, inwardly and outwardly]," he began, in carefully practiced Borginese. If he could speak to her in English, he could have elaborated, used more specific terms, offered explanations and evidence for her beauty - but his grasp of Borginese sentence construction and adjectives was so far lacking. "[...I love you.]"

His heart sank when she simply looked at him blankly, bewilderment in her eyes. He waited for her to say _something_ \- even if he didn't know what the words meant, he would have an answer in the tone of her voice. But she said nothing, simply staring at him in uncertainty, and he felt his face grow warm. He hadn't felt like such a fool since he was a schoolboy, and just as he had when he was a schoolboy, he ducked his head, turning half away. "[I apologize]," he said, and didn't know the words to say more.

But then, when his fumbling hand had just found the doorknob to offer him escape, she spoke. "Your... words. It is... mixed?"

He looked back at her, eyes suddenly wide. "...English?" he ventured. Clearly she was not very good with the language; her voice even sounded tight and a little uneven from the strain of it.

She nodded, standing up straighter. "I was practice your words before journey. I not good this time, but..." She covered her mouth with one hand beneath her veil, as if she were trying not to laugh. "You not good _my_ words. I am sorry."

As she began to walk towards him, Klavier tried to pick himself up again, collect the shattered pieces of his ego. "No, you're _very_ good," he assured her, trying to keep his words simple. "I understand you. You speak English well."

"You say in English words," she suggested as she approached. "You say slow, I understand."

Klavier wasn't entirely sure he needed to say it again. If she hadn't understood him, then why was she coming up so close to him? He almost felt like he should take a step backwards. Maybe she just wasn't sure she heard what she thought she heard... and if he'd gotten up the courage to say it once, why shouldn't he say it again? He swallowed. "You're a beautiful woman, Lamiroir, both body and soul... I love you."

Again there was a moment's pause as she processed the words, no doubt translating them in her head the way Klavier would have had to translate a response in Borginese. But then, she looked up at him and smiled. "You cute boy."

Given the language barrier, Klavier wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing - did she mean something more like 'you're a handsome young man' or 'you could be my son'? - but then she took a step closer. Instinct alone made Klavier take a step back after all, which left his back up against the door. Her eyes held him fast, pinned him there; she was wearing heavy makeup, Klavier noticed, and despite its camouflaging of the fine lines by the corners of her eyes, he thought it made her look strange, rather than more beautiful.

Any ponderings on the loveliness of her eyes and the blunting effect of the makeup on natural beauty were shocked out of his mind by her next halting question. "Do you want me sex?"

"W... _was?!_ Nein!" In English, he reminded himself, after the involuntary outburst. "No... that's not what I want!" he tried to explain. "You _are_ beautiful. But..." he tried to think of a simple way to explain how his love for her was _more_ than just sexual attraction. "I love your mind, your... spirit. Your laugh... Your music, the way you make it. The two of us, I think," he tried to explain, his spirits lifted as she reached up to stroke his hair, "are very much alike. There is an English word for it- soulmates."

"Soul... mates?" she pondered aloud.

"Ja. It's when two people-" He raised a hand to his chest. "-have the same feelings in their hearts."

"Feelings...?" she repeated again, sounding uncertain. Then her eyes widened. "Ah - I is know this word."

"Yes," he sighed in relief, seeing the veil twitch as she smiled - and then he gasped, as her hand went to his crotch. "Nein - no, not _that_ kind of feeling!"

She wasn't paying attention, but groping him curiously, leaning against the door beside him for balance. Klavier reached for her wrist, but he couldn't honestly say he _didn't_ want her doing this to him, and he moaned, abandoning that plan of action and reaching for her waist.

She felt more solid than he would have expected - she must stay in shape, Klavier thought as he drew her close, sliding a hand up her side beneath the cloak. He knew where he wanted it to go - and it was a place not nearly so invasive as the place her hand currently was - but he asked first. "May I... feel you too?" She nodded, and Klavier was distracted from what he was about to do by the feel of her unzipping his pants. His own hands detoured for a moment, helping to undo the chain belt he wore so she could push his fly open, and then they rose again. Her breasts were full and soft - somehow different than the young frauleins he was familiar with, more yielding perhaps - but before he could think too much about it, she was kneeling, and he groaned as she slipped him free of his underwear and leaned in.

This would have been better in a bed, he thought, simply for the fact that up against a door, his hands had nothing to hold onto except her, and he refused; he wouldn't coerce, he wouldn't suggest. This had been her idea, and he would not offer any implication that she should do more, or do differently - and _oh_ , there was no reason to think so, because she was doing the most _amazing_ things with her tongue. Klavier wondered how exactly Borginian girls learned these things, sheltered under all those veils, then recalled that she was, after all, an older woman, presumably with more experience. If this was what it was like, he would gladly rebuke _any_ rude members of the press who talked about 'cradle-robbing', because her greater experience meant he was getting the most unbelievable blowjob of his life.

Just before he was finished, when his nails were digging into his palms and his teeth biting into his lip, she drew back. Klavier shivered at the suddenly cool air on hot, wet skin. "Lamiroir..." he murmured, pleading.

She just looked up at him for a moment, and then he could faintly make out a wide smile beneath the veil unlike any he'd ever seen on her face before, almost... a smirk. And then, when she spoke, her voice was not her own. "Alaka _zam!_ "

Klavier jerked back, slamming the back of his head against the door as Lamiroir reached up to pull away the veil and a _wig_ in a single motion, revealing a short mustache and darker hair beneath. His thoughts already scattered from arousal, intoxicated by her - _his?!_ \- finesse, it took Klavier a moment to figure out what and who he was looking at. "Ah, gott..." he moaned. So _that_ was how the trick was... And that disappearing act was the _least_ of his troubles right now. "Ach, _gott_...!"

"You seem a decent young man," said the false Lamiroir, standing up and straightening the long, ruffled skirts. "Much more respectful than your git of a guitarist, which is why I thought to reward you. However, I suggest you relieve yourself of your infantile infatuation with that stunning siren - she's quite out of your league. Now, if you'll excuse me?" Shaking from the shock and not knowing what else to do, Klavier stepped aside, away from the door.

He slid to the floor against the wall, laughing weakly, as the man walked out on him. Perfectly normally, as if nothing had happened. The evidence that it had was right there jutting up from Klavier's lap. He'd better finish that off quickly and quietly, he realized - perhaps in Lamiroir's washroom, before she returned.

He was so close that it didn't take long, and while he carefully cleaned himself up afterwards, he considered. His 'infantile infatuation' with Lamiroir... ja, he'd always known she was miles beyond him. He probably _could_ manage to get over it.

Especially since all of a sudden he had a burning need to find out more about Valant Gramarye and his amazing tongue.


End file.
